


Pretty sure I'm maniacal, but what do I know?

by HelmetParty



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom David King, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Humiliation, M/M, Not Really Character Death, POV First Person, Porn With Plot, Proceed with caution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Sexual Violence, Slurs, Top Frank Morrison, other triggers not listed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-15 16:29:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19299484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelmetParty/pseuds/HelmetParty
Summary: Frank has a bit of misguided fun with his oh-so-favorite survivor.





	Pretty sure I'm maniacal, but what do I know?

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a small drabble but turned into a larger project which ultimately fell out of my hands. I have now dedicated my life to writing bottom!David and none of you can ever stop me. I'm too powerful.  
> On a side note, if you hate this, just be thankful you don't know me IRL. /Much/ more annoying, little less pretentious.

David was a cocky bastard from the day I fucking met him. He was older, you know, scruffy, the whole stubble bullshit. The first time wasn't so bad, didn't know me or what I could do, so he died pretty quick, just like the rest of 'em. Was the first though. Tried to save...shit, what was her name...Fen? Feng? Whatever. He tried to save that Asian girl from a killing blow. Didn't work. Got her, got him, I lived happily ever after, the end.

I didn't really think that much of him. He seemed like a dumbass, a real wanna-be hero. Well, there are no heroes here. You get all altruistic, you _die_. Every single damn time I see him...man, it's like the message just doesn't fucking sink in or something. He's always taking hits and rescuing from the hook when it'll kill him. Doesn't he learn? It gets annoying, if I'm being honest, the constant selfless, 'I don't care if I die' bullshit. But then, every damn time I hit 'em with the 'no hook, stab time', he cries like everyone else. It's all just a mask, but it's not as cool as ours. He should work on that.

It's been forever since my last round. Standing in Ormond feels fuckin' good. It's not so hot here and the visibility doesn't suck mega-dick so I'm happy. I take a moment to take a breath, just feel that cold air hit my lungs and send shivers up my spine. I'm _so_ fucking ready. It's retarded that the rare times we get to kill these little shits we have to take turns, blah blah blah. There's four of us and we get this chance every million years, so when we have the opportunity and it's finally _my_ goddamn turn I don't waste it. (For reference, Susie fuckin'...lets people go sometimes? I honestly don't fucking get it. She always was a bit of a little bitch but that shit is just plain wasteful.) 

This is _my_ terrain, _my_ goddamn territory. There was no way on Heaven or Earth that anybody could escape my wrath.

I shake the knife in my hand and feel the Entity's presence around me, goading me to find and hook them. It felt wrong once upon a time, stifling, but now it doesn't matter. I am in control now, for the most part. I can kill them if I want, by my own hand anyway, even though it upsets it. Hell, maybe I'll use this rare chance to do so. Wouldn't be any skin off my teeth and hey, it's more fun than watching the big spider bitch in the sky have all the action.

I get my feet moving and look around me - which gen to head off to first? The little shits wouldn't dare head inside the lodge first off, no, they're smarter than that. Corners and the outskirts are my best bet.

I find Ace first. He's working on the gen in the shack that I don't remember being there (but they're there - every single place I go to, _they're_ _there_ ). He's the kind of guy who was oblivious and was easy to catch but _fuck_ he got lucky - always a convenient pallet or window for him to jump through. Not this time, though. He's an easy catch, no chase required, right off the gen and into my tender, loving arms.

And then to a hook, obviously. Basement hook.

He struggles to get off but didn't even have a chance. He screams bloody murder as I hoist him onto the sharp piece of metal and he mutters a 'shit' before I leave. As I always say, don't look behind you, make it easy for me.

I don't wander too far. I check a few gens close to where the hook is but I knew someone was going to go and get him. Call it bad practice or unfair, at least I don't wait in the corner or right in front of their faces. I'm not that desperate; and besides, giving them a fair chance was always better for me anyway. I love the chase. And soon enough, someone surely plays the hero, the Entity warning me that someone was lifted from the hook. At first, I hated the warnings; gave me visual AIDs and made it hard to see, but now? They're just part of the perks of what comes with being a killer here. 

I head back to the shack and sure enough, running up the stairs is a bleeding and broken Ace. But in front of him...

 _David_. 

David hangs protectively in front of Ace. He shields him with his body, Ace rushing out the back door of the single room. The pallet is on the other door, so that leaves me with the perfect opportunity. I rush forward, stabbing David hard enough to make it so that should he not stop the bleeding soon, he would die. It makes me happy to see the old freak bloody and fucked up; a little too happy, maybe. Either way, I rush past him to follow Ace. No use wasting my energy on him when I can have both bloody and dying. I don't know what it is, but sometimes I can just tell - a gut feeling, or some shit - where they are. I follow that feeling and find Ace quickly. He's trying to hide behind a wall but it's easy to surprise and stab him, sending him tumbling to the ground.

I chuckle and take a moment to observe him. He's _seriously_ fucked up, covered in a thick sheen of sweat and blood already. I would have felt bad, but it's not my fault he's an idiot. They're all idiots as far as I'm concerned if I'm being honest. I go to grab him and hoist him to my shoulder once again, happy to make my way back to hook this fuckin' doofus again, but David comes to the rescue. 

Of fucking course he does.

A bright light shines directly into my eyes. Usually, it was easy to just look away, but I was still in the process of picking up Ace - that, and Jesus _fuck_ it was bright. Brighter than normal. Ace uses my state to wriggle his way out of my arms.

That _fucker_. That absolute fucking cunt.

Had it been any other day, I might have gone after Ace. Really, I might have. But smartasses get killed, we _always_ see to that. I instantly charge forward, pissed out of my mind and more than done with this superhero wanna-be. I close in and David turns to run but it's too late - I lunge forward to stab and it would have hit if he didn't use whatever strength he had left to sprint just a little out of my range. He's heaving and leaving a trail of blood behind him, stumbling over himself and running slower with each passing second. He got a little bit of distance on me, sure, but he couldn't keep it up forever, and he knew it.

His plan was working. The gens are popping and things are getting done, but suddenly it doesn't matter to me. My own vendetta drowns out the Entity's angry whispers to kill, to fight, to chase and to stop them from getting out. It wanted, no, _needed_ me to feed her. I don't know how I knew this, but I did. The whispers we're unintelligible but the point was delivered somehow anyway.

I didn't care. I needed to see David fall - maybe then his retarded selfless act would crumble and he wouldn't be such a thorn in my side.

He runs around pallets but I've played this game a million times. I wanted him to throw it down on me. After a few loops around and David's realization that I was going to catch him, he does so; it doesn't stun me, missed by just a few inches. I watch his face contort into sudden fear as I slide with ease over the piece of wood. With nothing else to do, no more energy or time to run, he flashes the light in my face. This time, I simply turn to the side before spinning back and stabbing him with all my might.

He screams as he goes down. It sounds _good_. I wish I had it on a loop.

The last gen pops and I hear the siren throughout Ormond. What would usually send me into a frenzy to kill them before they had the chance to escape was now a thought barely in the back of my head. "You hear that?" I mutter with a grin on my face, unusually happy with the lack of bloodshed this round. "That's the sound of everyone leaving you."

David grunts and goes to crawl forward. I nearly feel bad. _Nearly_. I put a boot to his back and force him into the snow. The cold wasn't cold enough to numb his wounds, and by the noises he was making and the pool of red blood that now formed around him, I could tell he was in real pain.

"There's no getting out of this now, we're too good at it."

He starts to laugh. Laugh, of all things. At first, I think he's delirious from blood loss or some fucking shit. "Dumbass" his stupid accented voice mumbles. "You only g-got me. You fuckin' lost."

He was right - I only did get him, but it didn't matter to me. "Look," I lift him up by his hair. He grunts in pain and I shove his head in the direction of the nearest gate, barely visible. "Look, they're leaving you. And there's Ace, walking out that door, not looking the fuck back." I shove his head back down onto the ground with force. He coughs up a bit of blood, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. "They don't give a shit about you" I continue with a sigh, going back to holding him down on the ground with my boot. "You die for them and look, they're fine with leaving you all alone, not even going as much to fuckin' look for you. They don't know if you've been hooked or not, killed, whatever. But you keep fucking doing it, over and over."

David laughs again. It makes me pissed beyond belief that he would be laughing _now_ of all times, about to die. Alone.

I take my foot off his back and use it to kick his side. It stops his laughing but only for a moment before he continues.

"Y-you see," he stutters out through coughs. "The t-thing is...it do-doesn't matter, cunt, death means n-nothin."

He wasn't wrong. They died but they came back every time. It made them ballsy, and sure enough, they probably didn't feel too bad about getting left behind because they would just be fine an hour later.

I wanted to change that. I wanted to make him afraid of me. I wanted him to dart in the other direction at the sight of me, the memories of what I had done to him making him fucking sick. I wanted to remind him that I was in control, I was the one who decided whether he lived or died, that he was completely at my mercy. I could do whatever I wanted to him at this moment; he was mine. He was fucking _mine_.

I kick him over with ease. His white tank top nearly blends into the snow should it not have been drenched in blood. He holds his chest where I had cut him initially, trying to stop the bleeding but mostly failing. I knew it wouldn't be too long before he bled out, so I had to use my time wisely. I put my boot on his left thigh, forcing his leg down onto the ground. His other leg goes to follow but I use my other foot to pin it likewise on its side of the ground. The position is uncomfortable and straining, I can tell by the way his breath hitches, but it was going to get a lot worse for him before it got better.

"You know, there are rules. Can't kill you that often, can't follow you out, can't take your fucking flashlight and shove it up your stupid ass." I juggle my knife in my hand and think about what to do first. The possibilities make my blood pound in my ears and for the first time in a while, I'm truly invigorated.

"You're going to wish I gave a fuck about rules."

Without missing a beat I drop to my knees, pinning him with my legs instead. The sudden weight shift makes him yell with pain; had this have been normal circumstances, his thighs would be bruised to kingdom fuck for weeks at the very least. His thighs are squishy, flesh perfect for slicing right though, but also muscular and tough. He's wiggling and trying to get me to move my weight off of him but I keep steady. With one arm I grab his wrists; still fighting even as I place my knife at his throat, he's still trying to keep some semblance of control or something. It's easy to just overpower him despite his assumed lack of fear for death or pain. He's huffing hard, teeth grinding and eyes squinted in anger. Even now he fights the inevitable, but his gusto won't last long.

I keep my knife at his neck. My face is close to his, my body hovered over him and should my mask been off I could have felt his breath. I think about it - taking off my mask - the risks. Well, there we're risks out there, but here? How could there be any at all? It's not like anyone is around, and after I'm done with him, David wouldn't dare to tell anyone what had happened. No, he would stumble back to his campfire and tell them he had died or barely made it out. He wouldn't allow himself to be vulnerable enough to tell them what I was about to do.

I take the hand holding my knife and slowly move it to my mask. His eyes follow it, watching me, observing closely as I slide my mask off. His eyes widen as I throw it to the side, my face revealed to him - or any one of them - for the first time. 

I'm white. They could tell that before - it wasn't a secret. Short black hair barely peeks out behind my hood, brown eyes staring him down full force. The only other telling thing about me is a scar of my nose and lip, that and dried blood stains scattered across my face. I stare at him, gauging his reaction with a grin on my face, happy when he is (and rightfully so) unsettled.

"Yer fuck ugly" he spits. I can only laugh, honestly. I take my knife and put it back at his throat for a moment, digging into the skin ever so slightly, just enough to make a bit of blood drip down. I lift the knife and drag it down his body, the blood from the tiny cut on his neck leaving a trail down to his chest. I hover at his tank top's collar, maintaining eye contact with him as I suddenly tear through the shirt, the thin fabric falling to either side. 

"What the fuck!" he hisses in surprise, breath staggered in his throat. I chuckle and move my head to the left side of his face. My lips hover over his ear, skin nearly touching, and something about the whole thing just sends tingles down my neck. Maybe it was being close to him, maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the control I held over someone who could probably overpower me normally, but _something_ about this was making me feel something I hadn't in a long, long time.

I lightly graze the knife up and down his chest, a little harder near his already open wound. He holds his breath and growls at me, but it only encourages me to continue. My hands itch to stab and to cut, but I hold back, albeit barely. Fuck, it was so hard to just not plunge into him in more ways than one. I knew I didn't have that much self-control, so I had to start getting to it. Besides, he might bleed out soon, and I couldn't let that happen just yet.

The knife hovers around his nipple, and I feel his neck tense. I grin and carefully graze over it. "Ohhh, what do we have here?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"Not yet." The knife twists and turns around it, and be it weather or stimulation they harden, making it easier for me to toy with. He's swallowing and I can see his Adam's apple bob in his throat, the instinct to bite at it washing over me. I couldn't count on myself to not just rip his throat out, so I decide against it, for better or for worse. Instead, I decided to bite at his ear, and I feel him nearly jump in surprise.

"Okay, hero boy, time to beg." I press down on the knife and instantly I feel him buck, a grunt of pain leaving his teeth, one of the most sensitive parts of his body being cut into. The skin there was thin, easy to hurt, easy to please. I wanted to break his pride, and I would start here.

"F-fuck you."

"We'll get to that, but for now..." I dig the point into the skin directly against his aroused nipple, my own breath picking up at the sound of his moans of pain. Listening to him and feeling him move against me was, to be honest, getting me pretty hot. It's not my fault, anyway, he's the one always running around shirtless and basically begging me to notice him. Just fulfilling what was oh-so clearly his fantasy.

I keep digging into him. He's bleeding and writhing quite a bit but _still_ , he says fucking nothing. "Just tell me to stop. Tell Daddy Frank to stop, if you don't want it."

It was going nowhere. He had a tolerance for pain, clearly, or maybe he was really just that fucking full of himself where he couldn't even say anything. I mean, to be fair, I wouldn't have stopped, but he didn't know that for sure.

"Alright, alright" I quickly pop the knife from his chest and sigh. This wasn't over yet. He _would_ submit to me, I knew it. 

I sit up and leave his wrists. His hands go to his chest, holding down pressure, the blood from his newest wound stopping for a few moments. I grin. "You know, I would have assumed you'd fuckin...fight me or something. But you're not putting up much of a fight. The only thing up right now..." It's not like I hadn't noticed. I was pressed against him, he against me. Could have been the contact, just normal biology whatthefuckever, or maybe its something else. He was a glory hound, but who's to say it wasn't hiding his real desire to be taken out of that position?

"...him." I grab David's cock through his tight red jeans. He's not completely hard, but it's clear to tell he's getting there.

"No" he blurts out, instinctually, probably.

"No, you say? No what?" I press down on it, grinding my hand up and down. His eyes close as I go to look at him. "Embarrassed?"

"T-this is...this is different. Don't do this."

"What's different about it? I'm a bastard, or have you not noticed that yet?"

He hesitates, biting his lip and keeping nearly statue-still. "This is fucked up, mate, fucked up beyond the killin'. Just stop."

"Say, 'stop, Daddy Frank, stop touching my cock that's hard from you stabbing me'."

"That's...It's not-!"

"I know, I know. You're not hard for me, you're just hard because...what is it, again?" I finger at the tip of his cock and can see that it's starting to leak, even through his jeans. He's enjoying this, at least something of it, and I wanted to drag that answer from him. The weakness, the emotion. The fucking _truth_.

He avoids my gaze. He's pretending to be more concerned with his wounds, looking at them intently and wiping the blood away. I was beginning to reach the end of my ability to hold back, my fucking wits reaching their end. Once more I ask - "why are you getting off in this?"

"I'm - I'm not, you're just touchin' me, so, stop that and just _kill me_ already."

I'll admit, for a second, he nearly sounded convincing. Then his eyes met mine, and I could _smell_ the utter hunger behind them. It was hunger to kill me, it was hunger to have me kill him, it was hunger for something deep and twisted and fucked up even by my standards. In all my time as Legion, I've never had an opportunity like this. We bullied, we beat, we made people beg for us to stop but we've never made people beg for _us_. We're killers now, but the killing was just another part of the day. It wasn't special. 

But David was. He was special in the way that nobody else pissed me off more than him. He was special for his unrelenting bitch-ness that nearly mirrored ours, for his unrelenting selflessness that made me sick to the stomach. He was a stuck up asshole but that wasn't the truth, not the whole truth, and in a way he was just like us. Masked, shielded; but unlike us, he wasn't whole. He was being held together with pins and needles and the tent in his jeans screamed that much. He was coming apart at the seams and the way he was was to hold himself together. 

I decided at the beginning to break him like girls do horses in those cheesy, terrible movies, but now I was dedicated to it. He would crumble. He _will_ crumble.

I take my knees off of him and shift my weight to the ground below us. I see him visibly untense just a tiny bit, probably happy for the small relief of pain. I wanted to see if I had bruised him, but more than that, I needed to see him complete. Without hesitation, I grab my knife firmly between my fingers and tear it into the crotch of his pants. I rip it, using my hands to rip them clean off from there. The moment my knife even nears his cock he visibly tightens with fear, and hell, I mean, I would too - someone with a knife at my dick. I didn't really give a fuck for empathy or sympathy or whatthefuckever, but that, I could have the tiniest bit for. I make sure not to hurt him there, at least not _yet_. With that he's nearly bare ass naked, knees bucking to close his legs but stopped by my presence between him. Instead, his legs just close in on me. "Oh, I know, you want manhandled. Don't worry, we'll get there, fag."

" _Fuck you!_ "

He's trying to move against me again. His arms go to my chest to flail and punch but it's easy to just lean back away from them. I manage to grab one of his wrists and quickly I force it at my own crotch, cock throbbing in my own jeans, ready to be unleashed on him. He drags his arm back and I let it go, message clearly sent by his look of disgust and horror.

"Do you even know why you say that?" I say idly, working off his dumbass Calvin Klein underwear. "It's like a one last hoo-rah. One last punch in the gut when you lost! You would be amazed at how many people say that when I've got them on the ropes." I pause and continue, thinking - "well, never like this. Yeah, you're the first to say that before I fuck them."

His eyes widen. His breath picks up. His Adam's apple bobs and sweat pools down his entire body. 

"Anyway, when you've gotta say 'fuck you', you uh, should know you've lost at that point." His underwear is off now and his cock is laying against his stomach. It's big, bigger than mine but who cares? He's a big dude, only natural, or something. Dick size didn't matter, or at least his didn't. It's veiny and twitching and his hands go to cover it, and I let him.

"Oh? Going to touch yourself for me?"

He growls. He has to strain himself to cover the whole thing, grabbing onto his balls to shield my view of it. 

"Go on. Touch yourself."

He doesn't, obviously. Still lays there, looking directly at me, and for a moment I would have called him courageous should he have fucking not been such a girl and tried to hide his dick. I roll my eyes and snort. "Okay, okay. Have it your way."

I take his hands back and pin them above his head. One hand on top of another; but this time he really gives a fight. Kicks and wiggles and tries to headbutt me and hell it nearly would have worked if he wasn't already exhausted. I'm able to overpower him but I'll admit, saving his strength for one last _real_ hoo-rah was pretty good. Why he waited until his pretty little cock was on display was beyond me. Either way, I take my knife and quickly pierce it through his hands and into the ground. A stake to keep them in place, to keep him to behave while I do what I need to do.

He screams. I wish I had this one on a loop, too.

"Alright," I lift myself off of him and wipe sweat from my brow. He's shaking uncontrollably and his eyes are shut, teeth ground together and chest heaving with shaky breaths. "Now you'll be a good boy, huh? No more fighting?"

"F...fuck....you..."

"Ah ah ah, it's 'fuck _me,_ _please_.'"

"FUCK YOU!"

He spits blood up at me and it catches on my face. Undeterred I wipe it off my face, taking a lick of it off my fingers. He sees this and, with tears forming in the corners of his eyes, sets his head down on the ground beneath him. He's starting to calm down, pain probably numbing at least a little bit by now, or at the very least he's getting used to it.

"Still full of yourself." I unzip the crotch of my own jeans and quickly pull them down enough to allow my cock to breathe. It jumps to attention, throbbing and achy. "Even when you fucking lost, you're still fighting. For what?" I give it a few strokes and simply admire the scene before me; David, bare. His thighs on either side of me, indeed bruised, chest sprawled on the ground, bloody and scarred but toned and clearly tough. He has abs and a happy trail leading to a small tuft of pubic hair above his cock.

David sees me and makes a noise of disgust, but yet, his own dick still twitches with excitement. "For...ego? For pride? For fucking what, David? Nobody is here and I've already seen through you. You can't hold together for-fucking-ever." 

"I ca-can't believe....you're still f-fuckin' talking."

"I can't believe you're still talking, either. But in a while, you'll bleed out and die. A slow, painful death. But until then?" I place my cock at his pursed hole. I feel him brace for it, trying to fight me, but it would be easy to overpower him. His strength was fading, I could see it. "...We're going to have a bit of fun."

"H-hold on, wait," he nearly cries the words. "D-don't. This is m-more fucked than the-"

"-killing, the killing, yes. It is. But did you expect me to care?"

"What are y'doing t-this for? To-to fuckin'- make me stop saving m-my friends?"

"Friends?"

"Yes!"

"Do you think they care enough about you to be your friend?"

There's no visible sign but the hesitation before he replies tells me all I need to know. I grin.

"Th-they...we're all- we're all friends. Sacrifice is just part of it."

"Funny, because I see you here, but I don't see your 'friends'...do you think they would try to stop me?"

"Definitely."

"Do you really believe that?"

The tears that we're in his eyes from before are spilling over. He's not sobbing or whining, but in due time, he would be. 

"Ohhh, baby, don't cry now. Daddy Frank cares about you." I rub his cheek of the tear and then proceed to give it a light slap. "Besides, haven't given ya' a real reason to cry over yet."

He's looking away from me, head turned to the side and looking off into the distance. " _P-please don't_."

"Please don't, _daddy_."

He says nothing. His lip is quivering and I can tell he's about to _really_ start crying. The look on his face is everything; he's realizing his options, he's analyzing my words, and he's coming to terms with what he is going to have to do to make this as painless as possible from here on out. I press further onto him, my cock rimming his hole, wet and cold, prepared to enter. "Say it. Say it and I'll stop."

"P-please don't...daddy."

"Hmm...Doesn't sound sincere."

I don't think he believed I would stop. I've never been that convincing in that aspect, the one where I feign mercy, but it's not like he had a choice. He had to take a chance, otherwise he might have lived believing he could have stopped it and didn't. And, if I was being honest, that one sounded more fun, but I personally like the one where he begs.

Without hesitation, I slip the tip of my cock into his hole. Instantly he tenses, a sound coming out of his mouth albeit barely. My hands hold his thighs tight, holding his legs steady as they clasp around me, his lower half shaking a bit. It was clear to me before with the way he flaunted his body and protected his gay little friends that he was probably one too, but it wasn't until now that that was confirmed in my mind. He's uncomfortable and clearly in pain but he takes it in a certain way that just tells me this isn't his first time with a cock in his ass.

"Mmh, you're tight," I coo at him. I slide further and further without resting in one place, and in less than a minute I'm in as far as I can go. _There_ I stay still, the feeling of his insides clenching around me nearly too much for me to bare. It's been a fucking hot minute since I've fucked, and especially with the tensions around this hellscape it's been piling up. Julie is more concerned with Susie's cunt and Joey is just the same-old same-old, and Legion gangbangs have been on hold because rarely we're all accounted for, anyway. And while there's definitely fucking pluses to being an invincible killer here, there were the downsides, too. 

He's barely keeping it together. Moaning, eyes closed; with just a push of a button, I could have him a sobbing, crying mess. I just need to throw him over that ledge; this is my time to break him.

I lean down to meet his face, staying stationary inside of him. I grab his jaw and force his head to meet mine, but his eyes remain closed.

"Look at me."

He doesn't move. I tighten my grip on his jaw and claw into his thigh. " **Look. At. Me**."

David opens his eyes; he's crying but _still_ this look of pure anger smeared on his face. Had it been in his control, I had no doubts he would have beaten me to within an inch of my life. Killed me, probably.

"Good boy" I whisper, going to nip at his bottom lip. He tries to turn away but I hold him in place. I watch his face carefully as I thrust in and out, slowly at first, committing his expression to memory as it softens with each and every single thrust. He was falling apart.

"Mmmh, good fag, taking Daddy's cock." As I say what I say I can see his face contort into that of sickness, disgust. "Doesn't look like your first time, but that's okay. Still fucking good, aren't you?"

"Fu-fuck you-"

"Whatever you say, baby."

I pick up the pace ruthlessly. I slam in and out of him, the transition from slow to fast quick and brutal. I feel him hold his breath but he can't forever, and soon enough he's nearly screaming. He can't help it as he shakes and sobs, struggling to hold onto me with his legs and his hands itching to throw themselves somewhere else for better support. He's a mess, a complete and utter mess beneath me, and it's a sight I would trade anything for. 

He _deserved_ this.

"S-s-slow down, pl-please" David nearly begs. _Nearly_.

"Beg for it, slut."

He doesn't hesitate this time. "Stop, p-please, sto-stop, I'll-I'll do a-anything-"

I do stop. I hold myself deep inside of him, down to the hilt, mouth hovering over his.

"Would you kill me if you could?"

He says nothing at first. He's breathing hard and taking this moment to try and recuperate, face paler than before. "Yes."

"Would you beat me?"

" _Yes_."

"Rip me open? Tear me apart?"

"Yes."

"Would your friends kill me if they knew what I was doing to you?"

" **Yes**."

"Do you believe that?"

Silence.

I continue to pound into him, this time our eyes are locked. He's softer, that default look of resenting on his face gone. It's just pain now, just pain, with something else, something softer. Acceptance, maybe, comfort in the fact he would die soon or something. I know he's dying and I know I don't have much time, so I hurry. I bite at his lips and this time he doesn't fight me or go to turn away, instead, he lets me do as I please. The slapping of my skin against his fills the cold Ormond air, a sound that I hope he _hates_. I hold him tight and do what I will and quickly I feel myself coming to my end. Usually, I could last a little while; hell, with how fast I was coming undone, I might have just been confused for a virgin.

"You want this to end?"

He nods as best he can.

"You want daddy's come?"

He nods again.

It's not long before I spill into him. My thrusts weren't ever very paced but at the end they're erratic and hard as I fuck into him with everything I've got, a few moans of my own making their way out of my mouth. With a grunt I push as far as I can, twitching as I cum as deep as I can.

I thought that I would feel better. Fuck him, make him cry, break him a bit...that it would make up for the amount of times he's fucked my rounds up. But as I lay there on top of him, I realize I feel no different. A little pleased with myself, but ultimately just as before. I had felt utter fucking joy or some shit at the beginning of this, but it was mostly gone. What had happened, I wasn't sure. I lift myself off of him and slowly I pull my cock out of him, my cum dripping from his abused hole. I use his ripped shirt to wipe myself off. 

"You know, I gotta ask since you're clearly with someone. Who is it?"

David is silent.

"Is it the cop?"

He shakes his head slightly.

"Hm. Jake?"

Shakes his head again.

I think for but a moment and the obvious answer pokes its way into my head. "Oh, the tired one."

He hesitates.

"Don't worry, he's safe from me." My hand goes to cup his wet cheek. "Tell me. Does he fuck you good? Or does he make you fuck him?"

"Fuck you."

I give him a small slap and stand to my feet. I grab my mask from his side and slide it back onto my face. I feel a bit weird about having taken it off, the Legion motto being "never take the mask off until we die". (That, and "lower your standards".) If they were to find out what I had done, they might be a little mad about it.

"You're going to keep quiet, aren't you? I'll kill you now if you do."

He nods. He had no reason to believe me but yet...

"Say, 'yes, daddy'."

With bloody lips, he responds a faint "yes, daddy."

"Good." I take the knife from his hands and he doesn't even flinch.

"You belong to me." 

I stab him in the neck. One of the dumbest fucking things people say about death is that there's a lot of screaming involved, lot of fighting. Truth is, if you're still fighting, you're not dying, not really anyway. His death is quiet, only a few gurgles of blood echoing in my ears. I watch his blue eyes fade to grey as he slips into the Entity's darkness, and I hear her angry whispers quiet. It was content with me for now, or at the very least it wasn't bothering with me anymore.

I turn tail and head back through the gates, not turning to look behind me once. I had done what I had done, and now, it was just the wait for the next time I saw him.

I hope it's gonna be soon. Can't fuckin' wait.


End file.
